CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Aunt Phillips Learns Something Interesting
Mrs. Phillips knew everything that happened in Meryton within twenty-four hours and half the things that had not happened at all.
This made her dangerous.
It also made her useful.
Elizabeth called upon her aunt the following afternoon under the innocent pretext of returning a pattern book.
Mrs. Phillips received her with tea, seedcake, and questions.
“My dear Lizzy! You look very well for a girl with a gentleman laid up at home. How is Mr. Darcy? Is it true he is to walk by Christmas? Mrs. Long says the physician told Lady Lucas he may never dance again, but I said nonsense, because what would Mrs. Long know? And Colonel Fitzwilliam! Such a charming man. Is he engaged? No? I thought not. Though Mrs. Goulding says—”
“Aunt.”
Mrs. Phillips paused for breath.
Elizabeth smiled. “I wondered whether you had heard anything about the officers’ accounts with the local merchants.”
Her aunt blinked. “Accounts?”
“Yes. Debts.”
Mrs. Phillips leaned forward. “Whose debts?”
“I have heard only that some officers may owe more than is wise.”
“Who told you?”
“I would rather not say.”
This was perfectly true. Darcy had told her nothing of present debts; he had only described Wickham’s lifelong habits.
Mrs. Phillips’s eyes gleamed.
Elizabeth continued carefully. “It occurred to me that the merchants might protect themselves if Colonel Forster received a monthly total of outstanding accounts for each officer. Not details, perhaps. Only enough that he may know if one of his men is living far beyond his means.”
Mrs. Phillips sat back. “Your uncle would know who owes what,” she said slowly.
Mr. Phillips was an attorney and conducted business for several shopkeepers. “I thought he might.”
“And Mr. King at the haberdasher’s. And Mr. Pratt. Oh! Mrs. Nichol at the milliner’s has complained of an officer’s bill since Michaelmas.”
Elizabeth sipped her tea.
Mrs. Phillips’s mind was moving visibly. “Colonel Forster would not like scandal.”
“No.”
“Nor would the merchants like unpaid bills.”
“No.”
“And if everyone reported at once, no single shopkeeper need fear losing military custom.”
Elizabeth smiled.
Mrs. Phillips slapped the arm of her chair. “Lizzy, that is an excellent notion.”
“Is it?”
“You know it is.”
“I had hoped you might.”
Mrs. Phillips narrowed her eyes. “Which officer?”
Elizabeth made her face innocent. “I mentioned no officer.”
“You did not need to.”
“Aunt.”
“Wickham.”
Elizabeth said nothing.
Mrs. Phillips’s expression sharpened. Gossip was one thing; family loyalty another. “Has he done something?”
“I have reason to think he is not entirely what he appears.”
That was enough.
By the end of the week Colonel Forster possessed a list. The result surprised everyone except Darcy.
Wickham owed money to the tailor, the bootmaker, the apothecary, two taverns, a jeweller, a livery stable, and three private gentlemen.
His total debt exceeded six months of his pay.
Two other officers, Lieutenant Harris and Ensign Cole, were nearly as bad.
Colonel Forster was furious. The three men were confined to quarters except when on duty. A substantial portion of their pay would be withheld each month and distributed among creditors. Further debts were forbidden.
Meryton talked of nothing else.
Lydia burst into Longbourn after hearing the news from Mrs. Forster. “La! It is monstrous. Poor Mr. Wickham! How is a gentleman to live if every shopkeeper demands to be paid at once?”
Darcy, seated by the drawing-room fire, looked up from his book.
Elizabeth caught his eye. Do not, her expression said.
He returned to the page.
Kitty said, “Perhaps by not buying things he cannot afford.”
Lydia stared at her sister. “Whose side are you on?”
“The bootmaker’s, if he made the boots.”
Mary nodded solemnly. “Debt is often the offspring of vanity and want of discipline.”
Lydia groaned. “Oh, Mary.”
Mrs. Bennet entered carrying a basket of mending. “What is all this?”
“Colonel Forster has confined Wickham!”
“Has he? Why?”
“Debts!”
Mrs. Bennet sat down. “Then he must pay them.”
Lydia looked betrayed. “Mama!”
“What? Do you think merchants feed their children on charming smiles? Your uncle was in trade. A bill unpaid is money taken from someone else’s household.”
Darcy lowered his book.
Mrs. Bennet noticed. “You look surprised, Mr. Darcy.”
“I am considering your point.”
“It is not a difficult one.”
Elizabeth put a hand over her mouth. Darcy’s eyes flicked to her.
He was smiling.
Lydia flounced toward the window. “Everyone is against him.”
Darcy’s smile vanished.
Elizabeth saw it.
Lydia did not.
That evening, Lydia received a folded note through the kitchen maid. She hid it in her bodice before anyone saw.
It was from George Wickham.